Sometimes, I Am The Leaves

That stray:
‘I won’t go far’
But most of times, I am lost
At the intricate streets and man
Made blocks, lost
Not knowing the way back to your bosom
I am the leaves, bloodless even
With the stomping of feet of men
And most often,
I am the leaf that some
Naughty girl tore apart
For no purpose—
But what again is the purpose of the leaves?
This is the fate of us
And we shall not complain
To the gods of all beings
But if soon, I evolve to something else
Say, with hard fingers, and strong hands
A determined heart weaved in a web of veins
With two seeing eyes and a pair of sturdy legs
And unyielding heels,
I shall seek my origin, you
Where I was conceived, where I was born
Where I spent my days devouring
And I won’t exist 
Without your water
Without your sun
Without you standing
The Violence of many storms
I shall seek your roots
Digging In the deepest earth
Like a child crawling back to its womb,
Joining you and becoming part of
The paleness of your sad branches,
Your intervallic breaths, your old wrinkles,
The scars of your trunks
And tears of newly slashed
For it is all, too, 



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